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In Pursuit of Change

Be patient

while in pursuit of change.

 

Nature is never in a hurry and everything unfolds as it will.

Nature doesn’t agonize over the ifs and buts, the should’ves and could’ves

Because they don’t exist.

Acceptance is the only way through life.

Adaptation the greatest tool for survival.

 

Be patient

while in pursuit of change.

 

Your frenetic ways won’t change the outcome.

Your willing answers to appear out of thin air a waste of energy.

Control isn’t always in your hands.

Go outside. Look farther than the end of your nose to the horizon and beyond.

Go outside. Breathe deeply and appreciate the quiet spaces that offer rest between actions.

 

There.

In the soft lull where wildflowers bloom in the decaying body of a winter-killed animal

Is where the birth of innovation occurs.

There.

In certain uncertainty is where calm and clarity reside.

 

You will find the way through only when at last you surrender to the ebb and flow

The ebb and flow

You will renew the chapters of your life just as the ocean rolls and recedes across the land

Through lows and highs of the tides

Live your life.

Through lows and highs

Such is life.

 

To end this post, one of my favourite quotes and personal practices:

Solvitur ambulando. “It is solved by walking.”

 

 

 

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Posted by on June 14, 2014 in PonderQs

 

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Oh Poetry Month

Day 29 NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month

Oh poetry month …

I have enjoyed you

despised you

thrilled at you and now,

am tired of you.

This blog cries out for complete sentences that stretch across the page from margin to margin and that don’t require hidden meanings embedded in them.

Words are meaning and

meaning comes from words crafted carefully and I admit

here and now

that I have not taken as much care as I possibly could have

this month long

this long month

yet

I am still proud to have taken part and exercised my brain, my heart, my creative spirit

and maybe added a layer of depth to my writing

while sharing in the stanzas of others’ efforts.

One more day of prowetress, proetgress to go

Dream on!

prowess … not quite but yes, perhaps a modicum of progress

has been made by this fledgling poet

Save the best for last?

We shall see tomorrow.

 
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Posted by on April 30, 2013 in PonderQs

 

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A Sacred Space

Why so sad?

Lingering heaviness around the world.

The number of souls lost to violence and extremism continues to rise.

Keep hope

Stay vigilant and

Love.

Love shouldn’t be given based on others earning it or deserving it.

Love simply because it creates space for

empathy and compassion and forgiveness and optimism to grow.

 

We must strive to live in that sacred space where trust and unity spring forth.

 

Day 17 NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month)

 
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Posted by on April 18, 2013 in PonderQs

 

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Poetry Fatigue

Poetry fatigue has set in

“Fat – tee – gay”

Je suis fatigue.

 

Day 13 NaPoWriMo

Yo! yo!

I said yo-yo

That’s what I feel like

My mind and desire to write poetry on a string

Up and down, up and down

Around the world

In a cat’s cradle

I’m marooned on a finger web of someone else’s tricks.

 

How will I do this every day for 17 more days.

Who signed me up for this?

 

Bring on the Limerick.

 

 
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Posted by on April 14, 2013 in PonderQs

 

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Women Share Everything

Day 10 NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month)

 

We are women so we share

everything

and we recount unabashedly

our mishaps and mistakes and missions and milestones.

This is how we connect and process the curiosities of life and

navigate the road ahead.

 

Queries are answered from collective experience or by bringing back news from expert female professionals:

There are underwire bras for A cups.

What the hell? WHY?

Can you hike at altitudes if pregnant?

Go for it! There’s even a fetus-friendly anti-malaria drug now.

The 8-year-old keeps crawling into bed with them.

Good Goddess, do we need to spend the weekend at their house to support them in saying

“NO!”

She’s been bleeding for weeks on end. Do you think it’s perimenopause?

Fuck if I know but that sounds tortuous. Should we send sympathy pads?

 

We are women so we share

everything

and we rally when needed to support one another through

love and loss and life and lament.

This is how we make certain the generations to follow

Learn to care for themselves.

 

The guidebook of

how to and why and why not and when and where and what for and how come

is passed down

and down

and down

because we are women and our survival depends on sharing everything.

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2013 in PonderQs

 

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30 Poems in 30 Days

Jumping in on day 7!! I have some catching up to do.

NaPoWriMo is National Poetry Writing Month akin to the novel writing challenge. I just stumbled across it.

I’ll start by re-writing a poem I submitted on a writing.ie challenge two days ago that had to include the word April:

 

On Wednesday, it was Winter and then

Thursday by noon it was Spring.

April is a confusion of rubber boots and woolen toques

Mud-soaked pant hems and sun-bronzed faces.

Cold, aching fingers clutch first daffodils.

 

Ok, let’s see what else I can come up with this evening. It’ll be a hurried, catch up, slam poetry night so I’m back in line with the challenge. These won’t be stellar, but hopefully they will be fun.

 

Snow storm covers Spring

Freshly melted roads turn white

Do not trip on ice.

Ice

 

Working towards three … can I do it?

Yes I can!

 

There once was a butterfly who flew by

With fluttering wings it flitted and flounced by

Faster and farther

Further and feistier

The flutterby blew by and said bye-bye.

 

Well I don’t know what that was. It was going to be a Limerick but it went off on it’s own direction. I’ll still count it as the third poem.

Fourth …

 

Winter winds its way down

                                                down

                                                      down

into the ground, snow-melt nourishes the earth.

” Wake… wake,”

whispers the wild wind to the wee.

Wood nymphs creep sleepily from winter dens

They turn wan faces skyward and seek the warmth of the sun.

South Bay

 

Five Five Five!!!!!

 

Looking into the bowl of flour, eggs and sugar

I see my fathers crinkly hands

My grandfather’s spotty, elder hands

My hands.

 

I make a face and hurl a sound; an effect to express my opinion about something 

funny, stupid, silly, sad

And hear my big brother’s voice.

My voice.

 

A deep sigh

A belly laugh

My mother erupts

From within me and I hear her all around.

My sound.

 

Years go by

I’m all grown up

But the people who shaped us when we are young

Cling to us in ways that go much deeper than DNA

It is as if they have etched their names on our bones.

 

Working on six. Number six.

 

Rock stars and acrobats

Walk a fine line.

Sublime.

But oh, they have so far to fall.

Like a safety net, a rock star can ride the wave of fans who stick around to watch their backs,

30 years on.

 

That’s for U2. Must fit in one poem for U2 this month. They seem a bit obsessed with making their music count among the Gen Why kids. I suppose I’d like to remind them that top 40 popularity is fickle and fleeting but loyalty has a long lifespan. They are a well-loved band and always will be whether or not they make another top 40 hit.

Okay. I’ve made it. SEVEN!! I need a final poem for tonight. Drum roll pleasssssssssssssssssssse

 

These seven poems took an hour

I feel so full of power

The first six were heartfelt and

This one is poorly dealt

So I think I’m going to have to try again.

Fooey!

 

Okay ya that doesn’t count. Try again.

NUMBER SEVEN!

 

Sunshine fades to nightlight

Stars swing to the west

Wolves are howling good night

and Owls are in their nests.

Pets are settled into bed

My cup of tea is steeping 

I think about the day ahead

and of the great things I’ll be reaping.

Random March 2013 011

Simple but true.

Woo hoo!

 
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Posted by on April 8, 2013 in PonderQs

 

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